


Wake Up

by animatedrose



Category: Niche (Video Game)
Genre: Betrayal, Blood and Injury, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Breaking the Game, Burning alive, Death, F/F, F/M, Family Issues, Family Secrets, Hurt/Comfort, Immortality, Internal Conflict, M/M, Multi, Natural Disasters, Pack Family, Past Memories, Secrets, Social Anxiety, Wildfires, character seeing the game stats and interface, conflicted feelings, controlling others' ages, dead files, effecting game mechanics, eternal youth, father/daughter inbreeding, inbreeding, islands on the back of whales, lost at sea, nicheling death, predator and prey, yes i named the whale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:26:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27341194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animatedrose/pseuds/animatedrose
Summary: After her island and tribe are engulfed in flames, tiny Eve finds herself on the back of a whale island. Forced to grow up without the guidance of her mother, she must adapt and survive the challenges thrown at her, even when a companion in the form of Adam literally falls out of the sky to join her. As their situation changes and Eve faces the prospect of losing her new family, she discovers a terrifying secret that changes the lives of her and her tribe forever.
Relationships: Adam/Eve, Adam/Juniper, Slate/Juniper
Kudos: 6





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I've gotten into Niche pretty hard lately. And since it is November, I decided "hey, let's try this writing challenge again". Let's see how long this one lasts. EDIT FROM THE FUTURE: Not long, apparently, lol
> 
> The non-con tag exists solely because of the Rogue Males. That's generally what they are there to do. There will be minimal explicit content regarding that. Trigger warnings will be put at the top of any chapters that may feature such material, for safety.

The world was on fire.

Eve ran, trying to keep up with her mother and brothers. Her father had collapsed a ways back, unable to breathe. Many others had fallen the same way. From her mother’s wheezing, she was about to go down too.

“Look out!” her oldest brother screamed.

A tree, branches aflame, fell down on top of them. Eve felt a shove from behind, throwing her out of harm’s way. She kept running, distinctly aware of the lack of thudding paws behind and around her. Her brothers were gone.

The shore had never looked so beautiful in Eve’s short life. In her few days of life, she had been taught to be cautious of the water. Now it was all that could save them.

Her mother set her youngest child on the sands. Eve didn’t need to look to know. He was dead. The smoke had choked him as they ran. She and her mother were all that was left.

The flames swallowed the grasslands, pressing tight to the sands. It was so hot.

“We can’t swim,” Eve whimpered, staring at the deep blue abyss.

A sudden spout of water erupted from the glassy surface. The grassy back of an immense whale emerged from the sea. His huge brown eye rolled to stare at them and the searing flames. He too knew that this island was doomed, along with every creature on it.

Eve sunk to the sand, shaking. She could feel heat at her back. She knew the fate that awaited them.

Teeth sunk into her scruff. Eve curled automatically. Mother and daughter would die together, roasted alive by the wildfire that had taken the rest of their tribe away. Eve squeezed her eyes shut, the heat intense.

Wind blew through her fur. Her mother’s teeth left her scruff. For a moment, Eve knew true peace.

And then she hit hard ground and grass. The wind was knocked out of her. It felt cool, if only barely.

“Guh! M-mommy?” Eve lifted her head, confused.

Her mother stood on the shore of their burning island. She was smiling. She was crying as the flames crept in, igniting her fluffy tail.

Eve stared down, right at the sea. At the immense fin of the whale.

“Mommy!” she screamed, suddenly realizing what had happened.

“Live long, Eve,” her mother said, fur catching aflame.

“Mommy!” Eve shrieked, racing frantically along the edge of the living island.

The whale gave a low call and pulled away from the burning grassland. Eve screamed more, demanding that he go back. Maybe they could still get her mother. Maybe the whale could help. Maybe she could still save her home.

If the whale understood her, he ignored her pleas. He swam into the open ocean, leaving the wildfire to continue burning.

The whale island was young, barely having trees on his back. His life had begun several years ago and only now could he finally support life beyond plants. He hadn’t expected his first living creature to come from such tragedy, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. He couldn’t exactly throw his newfound resident off.

So he swam, leaving what he’d barely call an island now in his wake. The tiny creature continued to run and scream. He almost thought she might leap off, attempt to swim back. But she didn’t. Eventually she collapsed, crying herself into a deep sleep.

He took pity on the tiny creature. Sadly, he could do little for her except to keep swimming and eating. The more he ate, the more plant life would grow on his back. He hoped there were enough edible resources for the poor thing.

Volturnus the whale, new to life as a living island, carried on through the empty ocean. He would continue living, as his little passenger would also have to do. Time wasn’t going to stop and he had no reason to mourn. He had food to catch so that he would grow ever larger and more habitable. It was the only was either of them would survive.


	2. Chapter 1

Eve wasn’t sure how much time has passed. Time didn’t hold much meaning, not when she was alone. Maybe not entirely alone, but as alone atop her only companion as a nicheling could be.

Volturnus the whale couldn’t speak, not in a tongue that she could decipher. He could only groan and call into the depths. His sounds meant nothing to her ears.

Eve had given up on starving herself many days ago. It made her stomach hurt and her vision fuzzy and it was going against what her mother had asked her to do, so Eve ate the juicy purple berries on the bushes. She wasn’t sure how a whale could grow berries on his back, but at least she wasn’t going to starve.

There wasn’t much in terms of trees, but the saplings provided enough shade from the sun to keep her comfortable. There was no lake or stream atop the whale, but he expelled enough water through his blowhole to leave the plants wet enough everyday to sip from. How he made the salty sea into freshwater, Eve did not know.

Whale islands were mysterious creatures.

What wasn’t so mysterious was the giant bluebird circling high overhead.

Eve knew what that creature was. She had watched the birds swipe unattended cousins from their nests, taking them far away to feed to their chicks. She also knew that she was still young enough for one to carry her off.

She hid in the shade of the saplings, trying to stay out of sight. Occasionally the immense raptor would dive, grabbing fish from the sea. It would land along the edge of the island, ripping and tearing at the flopping fish until bones remained. Then it would head back into the sky to continue patrolling.

If it saw her, Eve knew that she’d end up on its menu. She was more filling than a fish.

Her stomach growled. She needed to eat, but the berry bushes weren’t close enough to the saplings to grab from. She’d have to step into the open.

Her fur, a soft creamy color closer to white than yellow, would make her stand out against the green grass. She wouldn’t be able to hide. She would have to move fast. Run out, grab the berries, run back to the saplings.

She prayed that she was fast enough.

She tensed her muscles, waiting for the bird to circle just out of sight. It was too much to hope that it would dive for a fish. She’d have to take her chances and run for it. Maybe it’d be too focused on the sea to notice a lone nicheling on the whale’s back.

Now!

Eve ran for it the instant the bluebird disappeared past the sapling’s branches. She nearly ran the berry bush over in her panic. She grabbed at every berry in reach, stuffing them into her mouth. Even if she got a stomachache later, it was better than starving.

A piercing shriek made her freeze. She twisted her head up, brown eyes widening in terror.

The bluebird had seen her, making a quick U-turn her way. It dove, talons outstretched, huge beak open in a scream of victory.

Eve threw herself to the side, the bird’s talons ripping gouges into the earth. She stumbled to her feet, running. The bird flailed before catching its footing, running after her. It was an impressive runner, easily catching up with the nicheling. A quick swipe of its wing knocked the tiny mammal off her feet and to the ground.

The bluebird had not tasted nicheling in many days. They were rather hard to come by and difficult to snatch from their doting parents. To find a young one alone like this was a rarity.

The bird hissed, stalking toward the tiny nicheling. Eve stumbled to her feet, backing up. There was a sapling behind her but the bird was already here. It could see her just fine no matter where she ran. There was nowhere to hide.

The bird lunged, missing Eve by a hair. She screamed, spinning to launch herself at the sapling. The ground suddenly shuddered between her and the bird, a fleshy hole opening. The bird attacked, ignoring the phenomenon.

The bluebird was hit from below by a powerful jet of water, ripping feathers from it as it was carried high into the sky. Volturnus’ blowhole had done its job in expelling water from his lungs. Striking the bird was just a bonus.

Eve stared as the blowhole closed in on itself. The massive bird hit the dirt several feet away, dead on impact. Blue feathers rained down around her.

She made a mental note of the blowhole, closer to the whale’s head in what she’d call the northern end of the island. She wasn’t sure if it was actually north or not, but it was now her north. She’d have to give it a wide berth if she wanted to avoid the bird’s fate.

Eve crept closer to the corpse. She had eaten meat scraps back home from the local rabbils and even once from a bearyena. She had never heard of anyone killing and eating a bluebird. Was bluebird even edible?

She leaned in, tearing a small chunk off. It didn’t taste funny, though maybe all the berries she had consumed earlier was covering it up. She didn’t feel sick, so it didn’t seem poisonous. She decided to label the corpse edible.

She checked the skies before eating more. There were no other bluebirds in sight. She could afford to be in the open.

Eve ate a few mouthfuls before her stomach finally complained. The berries had settled and now the meat was pushing her stomach to its limits. She backed away, settling under a sapling to rest. She would eat again later, slowly whittling away at the bluebird’s body.

It would provide good nourishment for a few days.


	3. Chapter 2

Eve didn’t know what woke her first. The sudden screech of a bluebird or the sound of screaming getting louder and closer. She bolted up from her nest under the saplings, staring up into the sky. She could see the bluebird high above, flapping away.

She could also see a small shape falling toward her, getting bigger and bigger. Was that a nicheling?

It fell into the savanna grasslands toward the whale’s tail. Eve hesitated, checking for the bluebird. It was gone, screaming into the distance. She ran into the tall grass, searching for what it had dropped.

The grass soon parted, revealing what she had both suspected and feared. It was a nicheling, brown mane and deep orange fur covered in black stripes. He had long fangs poking out of his mouth. He looked so strange compared to her plain cream fur and long snout.

“Guuuh…” He shifted, groaning.

Eve stepped closer. “Hey. Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Brown eyes slowly opened. “What…?”

“Are you okay? You, uh… You fell a long ways,” Eve explained. “A bluebird dropped you.”

The male nicheling groaned, slowly sitting up. He didn’t look much older than she was. He shook off, coughing. Eve could scent blood on him, probably from the drop. He looked okay otherwise.

“Where am I?” he asked, looking around. He swayed, still dazed.

“You’re on a living island, on the back of a whale,” Eve explained, lifting a hesitant paw. “You should lie down. You look like you’re about to fall.”

“No, I’m fine.” He staggered to his feet, stumbling. Nothing looked broken. “A whale? Where’s that?”

“In the middle of the ocean somewhere,” Eve replied. “Where are you from?”

“An island somewhere.” He looked up at the sky. “A bluebird, you say? How far did that thing take me?”

“I don’t know,” Eve admitted. “But it dropped you here. Are you bleeding? I smell blood.”

“It’s not mine.” He lifted a paw, claws coated in red. “I clawed it. That’s why it let me go. I thought I was still near home. Did I black out when it grabbed me?”

Eve shrugged. “Who knows? I’ve never been picked up by one. Anyone that has…died,” Eve said. “Except you.”

He looked around, expression becoming more and more frantic. “There’s nothing in the distance. No islands. Nothing. Where is home?”

“I don’t know,” Eve replied.

“Mom! Dad!” he called, racing through the grass.

“Wait! There’s an edge!” Eve cried, running after him.

“A what?” He looked back at her just as he exited the grass. His paws found nothing but air. “AAAAAAAHHH!”

Eve sank her teeth into his tail, yanking. She was barely strong enough to pull him back. They both fell into the grass, safe again.

“I told you!” Eve growled. “There’s an edge! You’re on a whale! There is no beach!”

He lay there in shock, still trying to process it. Then he sat up and screamed at the ocean. Eve stood back, watching as he continued to scream. He screamed his heart out until his voice cracked. Then he stumbled back to her, cheeks wet with tears.

“I’m stuck here,” he croaked.

“I’m sorry. I’m stuck here too,” Eve said softly.

She led him out of the grasslands and into the open. The sky above was getting dark and cloudy, a storm rolling in. They took shelter under the saplings, munching on what berries remained on the bushes.

“How long have you been here?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. Days, maybe a week?” Eve said. “I was only a few days old when my mother threw me onto the whale.”

“Why did she do that?”

“Our island was on fire. Everything was burning. The whale turned up at the beach and my mother tossed me on him. I don’t know why she didn’t join me.” Eve felt her eyes burning. “I watched her burn alive. The whale just…took me and left her. Left them all. Let them all burn to death.”

He rested a paw on hers. “I’m sorry.”

Eve jerked her paw away. She wasn’t sure why she did it. The feeling of touch from another nicheling made her skin crawl. She tried to ignore the hurt look on his face.

“I’m Eve,” she said, quickly changing the subject. “And you are…?”

“I’m Adam,” he said.

“So we’re both stuck on this whale together.”

“It seems like we are.” Adam made himself comfortable on the grass. “We may as well get along.”

“Yeah.” Eve nodded, settling into her nest. “It’s going to rain. The bushes should be ripe with berries by morning. We better sleep.”

Adam looked up at the sky, watching the first raindrops fall. “Good idea.”

Adam curled up, trying not to shiver. Eve bit down the words on her tongue. He was a total stranger. She was not going to share a nest with a stranger.

They slept separate and cold that night.


	4. Chapter 3

The trees on Volturnus’ back grew tall and strong in the coming weeks. The savanna grew thick and golden. The berry bushes popped up more numerously, dotted now with their poisonous white-spotted cousins. Mounds in the earth that Eve recognized as rabbil burrows appeared too, though she has no idea how there could be rabbils on the whale.

“What are these?” Adam asked, swatting at a tall, thick tree that held heavy yellow fruits. “These stink! And the juices are so sticky!”

“Stop touching them then,” Eve said. “These plants don’t look like anything that I had at home.”

There were so many foreign plants and vegetation growing on the whale now. Thick curly vines and crackly ground cover and these big fruit trees. Some kind of biome that she was unfamiliar with. She only knew grasslands, like what lay toward the whale’s tail.

“Still no rabbils?” Adam asked.

Eve sniffed at a burrow. “Nothing. There can’t be any here. I’d have seen them.”

“Maybe your whale has them living inside of him,” Adam suggested.

Eve considered that. She imagined the rabbils burrowing around inside of their swimming island. The thought disturbed her, so she shook it away.

“No. I’d have seen them,” Eve declared.

Adam shrugged. “Okay. Whatever you say.”

Adam slunk off. After a moment, Eve tailed him.

Since landing on the whale, Adam had grown more and more depressed. Eve tried to help but she was unsure of what to do. She hadn’t interacted with anyone in her pack enough before the fire to really know what to do.

“Are you okay?” Eve asked, sitting beside him at the island’s edge.

“No,” Adam said. “I miss my mother. My father. My siblings. Do they think I’m dead? Are they looking for me?”

“I don’t know,” Eve said, feeling the breeze through her fur. “Maybe we’ll find them one day.”

“It’s been weeks. Who knows how far that bluebird took me,” Adam said, hanging his head. “It’s hopeless.”

“Only if you give up,” Eve insisted. “We could still find them.”

“And then what? You’ll drop me off and just…leave?”

Eve stared. “I mean…yeah? Why not?”

“You want to stay here alone forever?” Adam asked. “You could go with me, Eve.”

“This is where my mother left me,” Eve said. “I… I know it sounds stupid, but I belong here. On this whale. This is my home.”

“This isn’t a home! There’s nothing here!” Adam argued.

“We have trees! And bushes! Grassland!” Eve gestured around. “We have rabbil burrows that might have rabbils in them! I can make it here. And I have. And I’ll keep going.”

“Until when? When you’re old and realize you spent your whole life on a whale with nobody?” Adam demanded.

Eve reared back, offended. Shocked. Maybe a little afraid.

“You might have stuff here, but there’s no pack. Nobody but you,” Adam said. “Nichelings aren’t meant to be alone. There’s no tribe here. Nobody to cuddle with. Nobody to talk to. Nobody to have a family with. There’s nothing here, Eve.”

“What if I don’t want those things?” Eve asked.

“Then why did you save me? Why didn’t you let me fall into the ocean back then?” Adam asked. “You don’t want to be alone. I know you don’t.”

“You don’t know me,” Eve hissed, hackled raised.

“Do you know you?” Adam asked.

Eve paused. That was a weird question. Of course she knew herself. She was Eve, lone survivor of her tribe. The first nicheling on this whale island. The first nicheling that she knew of to eat a bluebird. She knew exactly who she was.

“Do you know you?” Eve challenged.

“No,” Adam replied. “I don’t. But that’s what I’m trying to do. Right now, I’m Adam, the nicheling who got snatched by a bluebird and carried far from home. Adam, who is stuck on a whale with a nicheling who doesn’t want anything to do with him. Adam, who isn’t sure if he should be happy he’s alive or cursing that bluebird for not killing him.”

Adam turned and walked away, scowling. Eve froze, watching him leave. Her mind buzzed with thoughts, confused and scattered.

She eventually followed him. He was curled up on the grass where he usually slept. Eve crept into the nest that she had made. Looking at Adam made her feel guilty.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“For what? I’m the one that went off on you,” Adam said, face buried in his paws.

“I went off on you too. And I’m sorry for being distant. I don’t know what I’m doing or what to do with you,” Eve said. “I don’t know how to make friends or how to treat others. I don’t…”

Adam lifted his head. “Maybe we can learn together?”

Eve smiled. “I’d like that.” She flicked her tail. “Aren’t you cold over there?”

“A little. Why? Finally going to share that nest?” Adam teased.

“No…but I can show you how to build your own,” Eve offered.

Adam smiled. “I’d like that.”


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Internet died yesterday right as I was going to post. gdi service provider...

Things got easier as the days passed since that night. Eve grew more comfortable around Adam. Touching him didn’t make her want to recoil. It felt almost nice.

Adam breached the subject one evening as they readied for sleep.

“What happens if we never see another island?”

“Then I guess we’re here,” Eve said. “Why? It’s not so bad on the whale.”

“Isn’t it lonely?” Adam asked.

“We have each other,” Eve said, confused.

“We could have…more,” Adam said delicately. He seemed awkward now. Beating around the bush.

“More?” Eve tilted her head, confused.

“Haven’t you ever wanted to make a family? Have children?”

“I never thought about it. We’re barely adults,” Eve said, tail twitching. “Why?”

Adam looked away. “Never mind. It was stupid. You’re right.”

“No, tell me,” Eve insisted.

Adam groaned. “Please don’t hate me?”

“Why would I hate you?”

Adam shifted again before looking at her. His head was held low, ears pinned back, eyes guilty. “I’m used to a pack. A lot of members and activity. Siblings and cousins and friends. One might be lonely, but two is barely better.”

“I don’t understand,” Eve said. “I was lonely before you landed here. I feel better with someone here. It’s not like we can make more nichelings appear out of nothing.”

“Maybe not out of nothing,” Adam muttered. “But we could…”

Eve suddenly understood. She felt heat burn though her fur. “Hold on! We’re not even adults. We barely know each other. I mean, we know each other but not like that!”

“I told you it was stupid,” Adam said harshly. “Just forget it.”

“No! We can’t just forget this,” Eve argued, getting to her paws. “We’ve only just started getting along well. We can’t just…leap into having children. I don’t know what to do with babies! And the whale is still growing. We’re only just getting proper trees. And yesterday we saw our first rabbil. We don’t know if we can feed others as easily as we can feed ourselves.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Adam said, looking away. “I just… I miss home. I’m used to a crowded nest. Lots of family. For it to be just us is…weird.”

Eve sat down in her nest. “I know that feeling. But we have to consider our resources. Yeah, we have a lot of berries and with time, we’ll have rabbils too. I just… I don’t know if that’s enough.”

“I’m sorry. I just came onto you out of nowhere,” Adam said.

“I don’t think I’d be a good mother,” Eve said.

“I bet you could be!” Adam protested. “It’s not hard. And I have lots of experience. I could teach you. I watched lots of my siblings and cousins being raised.”

“Are you sure?” Eve asked.

“Positive!” Adam nodded, eyes aglow with pride. “I bet we could be great parents! Um, if we ever do that. But learning is never bad. Maybe a cub will wash up here one day.”

“Maybe.”

Eve looked out to sea. She had wondered about that sometimes. Would they ever see other nichelings? If so, what would they do? The idea both excited and frightened her.

Eve turned back to him. “Well, teach me. If we ever end up with a child somehow, we both better know what to do.”

Adam grinned, sharp fangs barred. “With pleasure.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apparently wrote a bit more but never posted it? Weirdness.

“I’m going to be sick. I can’t do this. I told you that I couldn’t.”

Eve hung her head over the edge, gasping. Her stomach churned. She wanted to vomit so badly. Adam was at her side, soothing her.

“It’ll be fine.”

“I can’t believe we actually did it,” Eve croaked. “This was a bad idea. What if we mess up? What if a bluebird gets her? What if there isn’t enough food?”

Adam shushed her, rubbing up against her. “We’ll be fine. And so will she. We haven’t seen bluebirds in days.”

Eve forced herself back and away from the edge. Though she still felt sick, she staggered back toward the nest that she had crafted beneath the trees. Adam trailed beside her, ready to let her lean on him.

“See? Fine as can be,” Adam said, peering into the nest.

Lined with creamy fur from Eve’s coat, the nest was much sturdier and more comfortable than the ones she had built before with grass and twigs. Inside of the nest lay the focus of Eve’s anxiety.

Juniper, their newborn daughter. Tiny and covered in soft brown fur. Her eyes were still sealed shut and she was dependent on them to keep her fed, warm, and clean. She was beautiful.

And she was tiny. So tiny.

“She’s too small. What if she dies? I told you that we weren’t ready!” Eve said, frightened.

It had been a spur of the moment thing, the decision to have a child. Adam was so sad and Eve hadn’t known what else to do. She hadn’t expected to get pregnant, let alone have such a tiny child. At least it was just one but the fact that it happened still left her shaken.

“We’ll be fine. I told you, we can handle this,” Adam said gently.

She could see that he felt guilty over it. Days after the event, neither of them had felt good about it. They should’ve waited, like Eve said. What if the whale couldn’t support all three of them?

It was too late now. Juniper was here. They had to make it work, for her sake.

Eve circled the nest before settling it. Juniper squeaked but otherwise stayed put. Adam fetched berries for his mate to eat. They settled in for the night.

“What will we do when she’s grown? She’ll have no mate,” Eve said.

“Maybe we’ll find someone,” Adam said. “I mean, I fell from the sky. Maybe the bluebirds will drop someone else.”

“I doubt that,” Eve said, amused by the idea. “We’ll have better luck spotting someone lost at sea.”

“How? I doubt that,” Adam said, chuckling.

They watched the sky darken, stars appearing.

Volturnus groaned, expelling water from his blowhole to shower the island on his back. He was slowly growing bigger and stronger. He was aware of the tiny new life on his back. If she lived, that would be proof that he had grown enough to sustain life beyond his own. The rabbils pounded through the tunnels in the dirt, just over his skin, and he could feel more lives being born.

He could see much success in their futures. He swam on into the night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we have our next arrival on Volturnus...

Juniper was growing fast. Eve wondered if she had grown that fast. She couldn’t recall. She had just lost her family and home during that time in her life.

The rabbils were swarming, almost too many. Her fears about starvation were sated enough for her and Adam to dare decide to have more children. The nest had two small kits in it, only a day old. Adam was already talking about having a big family.

Eve had a feeling that she would have many kits in the future.

“I caught one!” Juniper declared, voice muffled through the rabbil’s white fur.

She trotted over, dumping the rodent creature by the nest. She peered in on her baby brother and sister. Satisfied, Juniper turned back to her mother for approval.

“You’re getting better. This is less messy than the last one,” Eve praised, nosing the rabbil.

“When can Pine and Hemlock come out?” Juniper asked. “Are you and dad going to have more babies?”

Eve laughed. “We’re thinking about it. I just don’t want us to overestimate what our home can handle.”

“But there is so much food!” Juniper cried. “We can have lots of babies!”

“But one day, they may have babies of their own. And if we’re all having babies, they’ll be eating food too. If we all eat too much, there won’t be anything left,” Eve explained. “We have to be careful, Juniper. Baby steps.”

Juniper pouted. “Awww!”

Adam’s ear twitched. He turned, looking toward the ocean. Eve watched him, confused.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Daddy?” Juniper chirped, curious.

“I…thought I heard something…” Adam muttered, walking toward the edge of their swimming island. “A voice…”

“I didn’t hear anything,” Eve said, hesitant to step from the nest. She didn’t want their newborns getting cold.

Adam listened hard. “There! Did you hear it? I can hear someone calling!”

“I don’t hear anything,” Eve said, straining her ears.

“Hello? Is anyone out there?” Juniper called to the ocean. “Hello?”

The ocean was silent for many seconds. Then Eve finally heard it. A faint cry. A voice calling in their language.

“Is someone there? Help!”

Adam squinted. “There! I see some debris floating there! Hello? Are you out there?”

Eve squinted but she couldn’t see what Adam could. She was too far away. Juniper shouted, running to and fro along the edge. Volturnus groaned, expelling water from his blowhole as a kind of signal.

The debris floated steadily closer. Eve could finally see the speaker.

It was a nicheling, older than her and Adam. He had gray fur that was wet and in disarray. He clung desperately to a chunk of floating wood and grass, some kind of debris from an island perhaps. His brown eyes seemed to widen when he could finally see what he was calling to.

“Hello!” he called.

“Grab my paw! Watch his fin. We don’t want you getting dragged under,” Adam advised, stretching his paw out as far as he could.

Juniper ran to her father with a long tree branch. The stranger managed to push himself high enough from his makeshift raft to grab both the branch and Adam’s paw. The pair dragged him onto the whale’s earthy back safely.

“Are you okay?” Eve called, concerned.

“I think so, aside from wet and cold. A few minutes in the sun should dry me off,” the stranger replied, shaking off the water. “Thank you. I thought I’d be lost at sea forever.”

“Where did you come from?” Adam asked.

“My island had an earthquake hit and it sank into the sea. A few of my packmates and I survived, but we were hit by a storm and separated,” he explained. “I haven’t seen anyone since. It’s been days.”

“Well, you’re safe now,” Eve said gently. She was trying not to be too visibly nervous. “Here, our daughter caught a rabbil. Take it. You look hungry.”

“Starving. Thank you so much.” The stranger accepted the dead rabbil, tearing into it quickly. He seemed to recover quickly once he had eaten. “I’m sorry. I’ve been rude. My name is Slate.”

“I’m Adam. This is Eve, my mate, and our three children. This is Juniper here,” Adam said, nuzzling his oldest child. “Pine and Hemlock are still in the nest.”

“Hi!” Juniper chirped, leaping circles around Slate.

“Hello,” Slate greeted. “So, you five have scratched out a life here? Interesting home.”

“We were hoping to find another island one day. No luck yet,” Eve admitted.

“It’s not a bad home, this. Your whale is small but he’ll get much bigger with time,” Slate said, patting the earth. “If he has rabbils already, he’s starting to mature. That’s a good sign.”

“You know of island whales?” Eve asked, surprised.

“I saw a massive one once, off the coast of our island when I was very little,” Slate explained. “I thought he was parting the sea, he was so big. I’ve never seen one since, until today.”

“You’re welcome to stay,” Adam said. “I doubt you want to jump back on that debris.”

“Not in this life,” Slate said, laughing. “I’ll try not to be a burden to you.”

“Your fur looks cool! It’s like mom’s but darker,” Juniper said excitedly, touching his fur.

“I lived on a winter island, with snow and cold temperatures. Thick fur was good and gray helped us blend in. I might need to shed a lot here, though. It’s much warmer than where I am from,” Slate admitted.

“I doubt the babies will complain about the extra material,” Eve said.

Slate smiled. “Happy to provide.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the first tragedy...

It had been a few weeks since Slate was pulled from the sea. Juniper had grown, maturing into a beautiful young nicheling. Eve could see that she and Slate were friendly. Perhaps her daughter would be able to have a family after all.

Pine and Hemlock, old enough to leave the nest, were adventurous and mischievous. Eve was grateful for the extra set of eyes. She didn’t want her children falling overboard.

There were three more kits in the nest. Eve tried not to worry about losing track of their names.

The bluebirds were more of a concern.

“I’ve never seen more than two at once,” Slate said, watching the massive birds circle overhead. “And the fact that they aren’t fighting at all…”

“Siblings, maybe?” Adam suggested.

“Perhaps. I don’t know much about bluebird relationships,” Slate admitted. “I’m used to seeing them fight. Maybe they can’t afford to out at sea like this.”

“Pine! Hemlock! Stay close,” Eve called from the nest.

“I’m watching them,” Juniper called back, tailing her younger siblings.

Eve turned her attention back to Slate. He had changed a bit since arriving. His thick gray fur had thinned out, providing plenty of warm material for their nests. Beneath all that fur, she saw muscle. Slate was a powerful nicheling.

“Juniper seems to like you,” Eve started off, taking it slow.

“She’s sweet,” Slate said, smiling. “Truly a kind soul. Loving.”

“Toward you?” Adam asked, catching onto his mate’s intent.

Slate glanced between them, lost. “She’s kind to me. What’s this about?”

“She shows interest toward you, and you toward her. Correct?” Eve asked.

Slate seemed to hesitate. His fur rose. “…Correct.”

“Should we be expecting grandchildren in the future?” Adam teased.

“Would you want any?” Slate asked, relaxing again.

“There’s enough food. But treat my daughter well. You have nowhere to run,” Eve teased. At least partly.

Slate shivered, chuckling. “Understood.”

Eve’s gaze fell back toward her growing children. Pine and Hemlock chased leaves carried by the wind. Juniper lazily followed behind them. Her stomach seemed swollen.

Eve smiled. _I’m doing it, mother. I’m carrying on our line._

Her pride carried until that child was born. Then she realized her mistake.


	9. Chapter 9

“Look, grandma!” Shell cried, brown eyes sparkling with joy.

Eve stood on the edge of their island, watching her granddaughter bat at floating kelp. Though relaxed, she was ready to yank Shell to safety should the young kit lose her balance and fall in. Shell seemed to always fall.

“Careful, dear,” Eve said gently.

“I am,” Shell said, but she did withdraw from the sea. “I wish we had a beach. Then we could swim.”

“We aren’t really built to swim, dear,” Eve pointed out.

“I can still try. Maybe I’ll learn. And then I can teach you and grandpa and mom and dad,” Shell insisted, tail wagging in joy.

“That would be nice.” Eve smiled, rising to her paws. “It’s getting late. We should head back. I’m sure your parents have gathered food.”

Shell’s stomach growled, as if on command. “Okay!” She spun to race back toward the island’s center.

Shell was pretty with her silvery fur and brown eyes. She looked so much like her father. It was relieving in a way. Eve had been worried.

Adam rose to greet Shell when they returned to their nesting grounds. Slate and Juniper called the kit over, berries and rabbils piled near them for dinner. Shell’s eyes lit up when her gaze fell on her sister.

“Hey, Iris! I found kelp today!” Shell cried.

Eve walked to her nest, taking a seat. Adam looked away, tense. Juniper seemed to stiffen a bit when her mother returned. Slate took a deep breath, focusing on the girls.

“Kelp? Oh my. Tell me,” he prompted.

Shell happily babbled about the kelp, snuggling up to Iris. They looked so different, the sisters. Where Shell was gray, Iris’ fur was a deep brown marked with black stripes. Just like Adam’s red fur.

Shell was entirely oblivious to the brewing tension in her family.

Adam glanced at Eve. “You’re still mad.”

“I’m fine. I’ve moved on from it,” Eve said firmly.

“Then why are you still angry? You won’t even look at Iris,” Adam hissed.

“She avoids me,” Eve countered.

“Because she knows that you won’t treat her like you treat Shell,” Adam said, fur bristling. “Look, you can be mad at Juniper and me. We messed up. I’m sorry. But leave Iris out of it. She can’t help her heritage.”

“I know that!” Eve hissed back.

“Then why are you still like this?” Adam demanded.

The clearing was quiet. Adam could feel Shell staring at them. Eve rose, leaving the nest behind.

“I need air,” she said curtly, leaving her family behind.

Emotions bubbled over in her. Anger, shame, jealousy, hurt. Things she hadn’t felt before this event. This treachery.

She had trusted him.

Eve knew Iris wasn’t to blame. The kit barely understood the situation, surely! Yet she feared that Iris did understand. That maybe, as she was blaming the child, the child was blaming her in turn. That somewhere deep down, they hated each other.

Eve couldn’t face it. Not Iris. She could handle Adam and Juniper, but Iris made her squirm. The idea made her ill. She couldn’t approach the kit to explain or apologize.

So this tense avoidance and silence was all she had.

Shell was a blessing, a true grandchild. Slate’s blood. Slate and Juniper, just as it was supposed to be. Juniper wasn’t supposed to see Adam as anything more than a father.

And yet she had. And Adam had indulged her. And from their brief union sprung Iris.

Her heart ached at that. Somehow she just knew the act was shameful. Slate was here! There had been no need to resort to such relations as what Adam and Juniper had done. Why? Why do that? Why dirty their blood like this?

Eve stopped at the edge, forcing herself to breathe. She had to breathe, to relax. Bottle the anger up again. Don’t let it show.

Shell had no suspicions about what happened. She was convinced that Iris was her big sister and nothing else. Eve didn’t want to destroy that. As much as Iris’ origin made her recoil, she couldn’t bring herself to ruin the kit’s right to live peacefully.

Juniper was young. She hadn’t know any better. She should have, but she hadn’t. Eve was willing to look past that, even if looking at her firstborn hurt deeply.

Adam had no excuse. He was going to have to work hard to regain her forgiveness.

Eve sat there for a long time before she returned to the nesting ground. She licked her kits, curling atop them. She ignored Adam as he lay beside her, just close enough to touch. She would’ve put more distance between them if she could but her kits needed the warmth.

Her kits needed her. That was the only reason why she stayed.


	10. Chapter 10

Days turned into weeks. Volturnus grew even larger. The rabbils poured from him in force, keeping the nicheling tribe well fed. Though the bluebirds hung out overhead, they did not drop anyone.

The ocean was more merciful there. Over the weeks since Slate joined them, more debris was found. Among that debris were nichelings, lost and dazed and desperate to escape the sea’s clutches.

The weeks soon became months and the pack grew. More cubs were born between new couples. The tribe flourished on their living island.

Eve was happy to get lost in the hustle and bustle. It distracted her from Adam and his treachery, nearly forgiven but not forgotten. There were plenty of kits that needed watching and new mothers eager to have their alpha’s advice.

Including new grandchildren and even great-grandchildren. Eve never thought she’d live to see such a day. She wasn’t even that old yet.

Her mother would be proud.

Eve also never thought that she’d see something as odd as she did one day…

.o.o.o.o.

Most of the new packmates that were swept in by the ocean were older than Eve was by many years. One such male, Moss, was so old that he was already considered an elder when he arrived. Though he did manage to rear one litter, he had no further intent to try again.

Why bother when he could die any day now from old age?

Eve was making him comfortable as she normally did, fluffing his nest and making sure that he was eating. She rested beside him in the noon sun, keeping an eye on nearby kits. She had never really noticed the strange thing hovering over the elder before.

Now she did.

It looked like a strange half-circle, with large dots forming the rest of the circle. The half-circle was almost fully filled in, with a bit of red at its end. Eve blinked, lifting a paw to bat at it. It didn’t move but she didn’t encounter anything physical there either.

Was she seeing things?

“Moss, is there anything in the air above you?” Eve asked.

“Huh?” Moss slowly looked up. “I don’t see anything except clouds. Is it going to rain?”

“No strange things? Nothing at all?” Eve asked, concerned.

Moss shook his head, yawning.

Eve frowned, eyeing the strange thing. She put it aside, chalking it up as some kind of visual oddity. She was just seeing things. Maybe she had looked at the sun for too long.

Once she was done caring for Moss, she moved closer to the kits…and saw the same circles over their heads too. Each kit had one, barely filled in with no red on them at all. Eve’s anxiety rose as she spun to examine her pack.

Everyone had them, at various degrees of filled in. A few had red on them but not many. Eve tilted her head back, shocked to see one over her own head too.

“What are these things?” she whispered.

As the day passed into night, Eve noticed other things. On the edges of her vision, there were dots and strange markings. She couldn’t begin understanding those, but she began to piece together what some of these things were.

At the top of her vision, she could see a sun turning into a moon. At the right corner, she could see multiple tiny heads. She could also see a cloud. Some kind of weather, time, and tribe member count indicators. As she observed her packmates, she began to notice that everyone with red on their circles had been sick at some point.

Eve didn’t understand why all of this had appeared now. Had it always been there? Why had she never seen it before?

The circles represented everyone’s age. She realized this when comparing her kits and then looking at Moss. His was almost filled it. He was going to die soon, they already knew this, but this solidified exactly when.

She knew when everyone was going to die. She knew if they were sick, pregnant, and how old they were. She could see the weather, how many packmates she had, and how much food they had collected. She could see all of this.

Why? Why could she see this? What was the purpose? Nobody else could see it.

Eve couldn’t help it. Her anxiety skyrocketed. She didn’t understand. What was the meaning of seeing and knowing any of this? Where had it all come from?

She couldn’t tell anyone. Nobody would understand.

So Eve went to the first nest site that she had ever created. She sat by Volturnus’ blowhole, watching the heavy stream of water spray into the evening sky. The misty spray felt nice on her creamy fur.

“Why is this happening to me?” she asked, looking at the sky.

Volturnus gave a low groan. His huge body heaved, nearly at adult maturity. He, unlike her packmates, did not have all of these strange indicators on him. Eve wasn’t sure why that made her happy.

“Mother, why can I see these things? I don’t understand,” Eve said softly.

The stars twinkled overhead, unhelpful.

Eve sighed, rising to her paws. She turned to step away from the blowhole. She needed sleep. She would deal with all of this in the morning, if it was still there. Maybe it would all be gone, lost in a dream.

Then the ground fell away and Eve plunged into darkness with a loud scream.


	11. Chapter 11

Eve didn’t know how long she fell for, but the darkness around her lit up with many glowing circles. Images of her and her tribe floated around her. Not just the tribe on Volturnus. The tribe on her home island. Her father, her mother, her brothers. As if the fire had never hurt them.

Memories of the past.

When she hit the ground, there was no impact. Her paws touched something solid and the fall ended, her fur smoothing. No pain, no gravity, just a floor under her feet. Eve couldn’t puzzle out why.

The darkness was covered in images. Kits chasing each other. Nichelings bringing rabbils back to the tribe. Bushes regaining their berries. Rain falling into the ocean as Volturnus lazily swam on a journey without end. Bluebirds flying in circles, eyes scanning for viable prey.

“Where am I? What is this?” Eve asked.

A large square of white light appeared in her face. She reared back, eyes squeezing shut to escape the glare. When the colorful spots faded, she carefully looked at the light.

It was covered in small pictures and text. A list of her tribe, their life spans, their health. Everything that she had seen up on Volturnus was there on this little screen. She reached out to touch it, pads finding a solid surface.

She must’ve pressed on Shell’s name, because the screen suddenly only displayed her. The Shell on the screen nuzzled a kit in a nest—her child, a daughter named Honey. It was like Eve was there, watching.

“How is this happening?” Eve wondered, looking away from the screen.

She saw another screen nearby. It displayed an island, mostly grassland with a small mountain at its center. Eve gasped, leaping for it. Her home island! She remembered those trees and that mountain!

 **DEAD FILE** the screen said.

“Dead file?” Eve muttered. “What does that mean?”

She tapped at the screen, trying to make it do something. Anything. It would not change, the words refusing to move. The screen would not change with her interactions, unlike the first screen.

“Is it because my island burned? Because it’s gone?” Eve wondered.

She sadly padded back to the first screen. In her absence, it had gone back to the list of her tribemates. At the top, Volturnus’ name was listed as the island. She tapped on that and the screen showed the whale island.

“He’s gotten so big now,” she muttered.

She carefully tapped on names, skimming over her packmates. She noticed that their life spans and health all varied. That made sense with ages and illness. She paused at Moss before tapping on him. The age bar was almost at its end, just as she had seen before.

She poked at it…and pulled the bar amount back, away from its end.

Eve froze. Was she seeing that right? Did she just…change that? Extend Moss’ life?

She touched it again, pulling the bar back to roughly its halfway point. If she was right, Moss was supposed to die in the next day or two. If he didn’t now…

“Nobody has to die,” Eve muttered.

Eve went back, skimming the list. A lot of the outsiders were older and weaker from illness. If this worked and Moss didn’t die, maybe she could dial back the clock for them too. Prevent them from dying.

Her mind protested. Whatever this was, she shouldn’t be touching it. She had no right to keep her packmates with her. Someone would get suspicious eventually if everyone kept living. Whatever this place was, the rightful owner might notice her meddling.

But if it stopped a repeat of what happened to her mother and family…

Eve withdrew from the screen. She would wait and see what happened to Moss. Maybe she could come back. She had fallen through a spot by the blowhole. Maybe that was an entrance to this place?

“But how do I leave?” she asked, looking around.

She saw nothing but darkness. She lifted a paw, hesitated, and then set it down…on another invisible floor. Eve stared. She felt no floor anywhere but under her paws.

“Maybe I can…”

Eve tensed her other three legs and jumped. She landed level with her forepaw on that floor. She jumped again, landing another few feet up. Then she lifted her paws, taking an idle step. Another floor. She couldn’t see them but they would appear if her paws wanted them there.

Eve kept walking, moving upward through the darkness. Like climbing the mountain back home. The screens did not follow her, staying at what she guessed was the very bottom of the darkness. This place was so strange but Eve found herself beginning to enjoy it. If she could return here again, perhaps she would try to explore more.

She saw stars twinkling overhead. The darkness abruptly peeled away. Her next step left her paw on grass. She lifted her head, blinking. Volturnus’ back stretched out all around her.

She was home.

Eve left the darkness, turning to watch. She could suddenly see it, where the skin by the whale’s blowhole almost seemed to be thin. That must be the entrance.

She fetched long sticks and sheets of moss, covering it. She didn’t want to risk any of the kits falling in. What if someone else discovered that place?

Maybe someone already had, for all she knew.

The sky was lighting up in the distance. She had been down there all evening. The others would be worried about her absence.

Volturnus groaned as Eve walked. Did he know, she wondered. Rabbils came from his back and plants grew from his earthy skin. Did he know of the dark place beneath his blowhole? Was that a secret of his? Or was someone else down there?

Eve put a stop to the questions. There was no point in that now. She had to watch Moss. If he died soon, she would know the answers that way. Nothing else mattered until then.

She strode back into her tribe’s nesting ground, ready to act normally again.


End file.
